


One Bastard to Another

by whitestallion90



Category: Game of Thrones (TV), Realm of the Elderlings - Robin Hobb
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-29
Updated: 2020-02-29
Packaged: 2021-02-28 01:21:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,066
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22961590
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whitestallion90/pseuds/whitestallion90
Summary: FitzChivalry Farseer is having a drink at his favorite bar when another bastard walks in, and they talk about the Wit, having wolves for partners, and being bastards.In the ROTE world, set around Royal Assassin. In the GOT world, set after ep 5x09 Hardhome.
Comments: 4
Kudos: 13





	One Bastard to Another

***

I was drowning the third beer of the night when a young man entered the tavern briskly. 

Some heads turned to look at him, but he went mostly unnoticed. I, however, did notice him, because he was a new face. 

He was wearing a long fur coat that he removed as he entered, with the dignified air of a noble. The long sword hanging by his waist was enough to dissuade most of the drunk folk from picking a fight, but he didn’t seem to notice. 

He stood for a moment by the door, dark eyes searching the busy tavern for a free table. 

Almost at once, his gaze settled on me, and resolutely he strolled over to my table. I stiffened and caressed the edge of the knife I was carrying under the table. I realized then how jumpy I’d become, and how Regal’s lackeys following me had altered my nerves. Chade was right. I did need to learn to trust someone.

The young man sat with a sigh, and placed a coin on the table. The serving lad brought him a mug of beer and he downed it in one long drink. He fished the pocket of his leather jacket for another coin and another mug was almost instantly placed on the table. The serving boy had noticed his air of nobleness and was expecting a good tip.

I raised my eyebrows at him when he drank the second mug as quickly as he had the first. 

“Harsh night?”

“Undoubtedly.”

He had a strange accent, one I hadn’t heard before. It wasn’t wide open like Farrow’s accent, nor harsh like an Outislander’s, nor gurgly like some Jamaillians and Bingtowners I’d heard at the docks. His accent was throaty, slightly similar to the Mountain Kingdom’s, but not the same. I threw the serving boy a quick glance, and put several coins on the table. 

“More beer for my tired friend!”

“Thank you,” he said with a glance of gratitude. 

“So, you’re not from around here. The journey must have been tiring,” I said comprehensively.

“Indeed. And we’re still not at the end of it,” he said staring into his empty cup with unmistakable dread in his eyes.

“Not a fan of long sea travels?”

He shook his head, black curls dancing slightly, but did not volunteer any more information. I felt curiosity tug at me, and welcomed the change. My mind had been too set on our current problems of lately, and I had not been spying enough. Information from Chalced or Bingtown would be useful to Verity, as well as Chade. So I put my most sympathetic face.

“I’ve travelled in ships myself, but never for a long time. A one day journey was uncomfortable enough, I can imagine the kind of hardships you must be enduring”.

He chuckled somberly. “It’s not the journey that’s the problem, but the destination.”

“Oh.” The information was slightly surprising. I thought that if a merchant ship would be facing problems, it would be from the Red Ships, but perhaps he had a harsher destination. Perhaps he was being shipped to slavery. “Chalced?” I asked quietly.

He blinked. “What? No.”

It was my turn to blink. “There’s been problems in Bingtown or Jamaillia?”

He shook his head again and looked at me warily, and I knew I was asking too many questions. 

“We’re going north. Back to the ice and snow,” he sighed, and took a sip of beer. I kept quiet for a while. Then, “My father would be loath to hear what I’ve done.”

I said nothing. Chade had taught me well that some people spoke best if allowed their own time. In the meantime, I studied the man’s face. There was something obviously wearing him, and I reconsidered my initial evaluation of him as a low noble.

“But then, my father never acknowledged me and practically sent me to the Wall, so I guess I owe him nothing.”

My heart jumped. A bastard! That explained why he looked like a noble and acted like a noble but seemed wary. But then, the Six Duchies were at war, and nobody was at ease. 

I considered telling him that I was a bastard too. I was always reluctant to share information about myself with strangers, but then, everybody else in the tavern knew me and they could have told the young man I was Chivalry’s bastard. I weighed out what information he could guess about me that wasn’t already common knowledge and decided it was safe.

“I know a thing or two about distant fathers myself,” I whispered conspirationally. I reached out my hand. “FitzChivalry Farseer, Chivalry’s bastard.” 

It was the first time I voluntarily presented myself as a bastard, but since I wanted to fish out information from him, this was something in common that we had that might loosen his tongue.

He shook my hand with an appreciative smile. “Jon Snow.”

I put more coin in the table and ordered more beer for us. 

I took a sip of beer and shook my head. “The bastard’s curse. Always used, never acknowledged.” Something inside me ached when I realized that those weren’t mere words to bond with a stranger. A part of me would always resent Chivalry for abandoning me.

Jon nodded. “They all act like your birth defines you. Like, because you’re a bastard, you can’t hold a sword, or defend yourself.” He stared at his empty mug again, a lopsided smile forming on his face. “But I’ve got a bit of wisdom for you. Someone once told me that if I wore my condition like armor, nobody could use it to hurt me.”

I smiled myself. “And does that work?”

He shrugged. “Sometimes.”

Jon shook his head lightly and shivered for a moment, like a dog shaking off water, and then looked at me. “How do you fare with the fate you’ve been given?” He was only being courteously kind, and yet my mind reeled. How did I fare with my fate? And the words escaped me before I could catch my tongue.

“By making mistakes.”

He laughed. “It’s our curse then. Make deadly mistakes, take the country to ruin, with no family to share the burden.”

“No family?” I asked, wondering if customs were so different at his birthplace. I was a bastard but it didn’t mean I didn’t have a family. Burrich had taken me in and taken care of me, King Shrewd had taken me in and Chade had trained me. I was certain that Burrich at least would never turn his back on me no matter what I did. 

_Except for using the Wit_ , Cub said in my mind. I wanted to dispute that, but I couldn’t. Then I noticed that Jon was talking and I tuned back to listen to him.

“… father never told me openly he wanted me to go to the Wall, but he never opposed it, either. And Catelyn hated me. They’re all dead now anyway.”

“I’m sorry,” I whispered.

“And I’m probably going to die soon too, anyway. Hardhome was a fiasco, and nothing is going to stop the Night Walkers now.”

_There’s another wolf here_ , Cub said, alarmed. _It’s a strange wolf, all white._

_Stay away from him!_ I warned him, as alarmed as he was. 

_I know, I’m not stupid_ , he rebuked me. _You’re looking odd, he’s staring at you._

I came back to myself to realize he was effectively right. Jon Snow was staring at me, and I smiled awkwardly. 

“Too much beer, I guess.”

He nodded, but the wary look in his eyes did not fade. He tossed his next question like it were unimportant, but we both knew it was not unimportant at all. “Who did you say you’re son to?”

I steeled myself. “Chivalry. Also dead.”

He raised his eyebrows. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. I never knew him anyway. Everyone speaks wonders of him, but I think he wasn’t as good as they say he was,” I lied, trying to get him to expose himself. If he was one of Regal’s lackeys, he would quickly agree with me, and if he was not, he’d probably defend Chivalry, like everybody else would. 

But he didn’t do either. “Whatever you say.” He gulped another bit of his beer, finishing it, and put the empty mug on the table. “Thank you for your hospitality. But now I must go face my fate.” He stood up. “My wolf is waiting.”

I felt a cold chill run down my back, and looked around to see if anyone had heard. It was late, and most of the clients were already way too drunk. No one seemed to be paying attention to two youngsters sharing a mug of beer, but I could never be sure. 

I put coin on the table and stood up to follow him. Just as he walked outside, I gripped the end of his cloak.

“Did you say ‘your wolf’?”

“Ghost doesn’t like me to wander around without him,” he replied, but gave me a wary look. “Specially when strangers I talk to in a tavern follow me.”

I lowered my voice as much as I could. “A white wolf?”

“You’ve seen him then.”

Every alarm was ringing in my head. If someone had heard him and connected the wolf to him, they’d guess he was Witted. The poor boy did not know the danger he’d just put himself in. And still, he might just be a weird man who had a pet wolf.

“Is Ghost your pet wolf?”

His eyes darkened. “He’s more than a pet I’ve trained, if that’s what you’re asking.”

My heart sank at the confirmation. And then, I also felt some sort of relief. I’d never met anyone Witted before. I needed to warn Jon before he could get himself in more trouble, but how could I make him believe me without exposing myself as Witted too? I glanced at the dark alley behind us. It was too dark to see anything in there. Anyone could be listening to us.

“We need to talk,” I said brusquely, and pulled from his arm. But he snatched his arm free.

“No.”

“You can’t go back to your wolf, not yet,” I said, pleading with my eyes so that he would believe me. He stared at me, and I saw him notice my urgency, but he did not trust me anymore. “There’s something you should know, but this is not the place to speak of it.”

Already I was risking myself too much for a stranger. Molly would be mad at me if she knew. She’d hiss that I could risk myself for someone I didn’t know but not for her. 

“Why not?”

“Because anyone might be listening.”

Jon looked around and nodded, seemingly conceding my point. I tried to grab his arm again, but he drew back, and pulled his cloak back just for an instant, long enough for me to see the long sword that hung from his belt. I caught the hint, and nodded, to make him see I understood.

Then he followed me. I led him to the outskirts of Buckkeep Town, and took several turns, checking that no one would follow us.

“What is it that we’re running from?” he asked at one point, after I’d taken a turn at a dark corner and waited to see if someone came.

“Rumors. Deadly rumors. And spies.”

He shook his head sadly. “We bastards aren’t safe anywhere, are we?”

I looked at him. “No, we’re not.”

He seemed to have realized that I genuinely thought he was in danger, but he didn’t seem afraid. He probably thought I was overreacting. It wasn’t until we reached the road up to Buckkeep Castle, and I went into the shrubbery at the side that he stopped.

“This is as far as I will go. Tell me what the danger is. It can’t be that bad.”

I looked around anxiously. Someone could still be hiding in the bushes. 

_Nobody followed you. There’s no one around,_ Cub confirmed for me.

_You’re near?_

_Yes. His wolf is also here. He is bigger than me, so I haven’t faced him straight away, but he knows I am here, he knows I am following you and he knows you brought his human here._

_Is he friendly?_

_I don’t know._

_Stay away from him for now, and let me know if someone comes._

I sensed his agreement, and looked back at Jon. Again he was staring at me weirdly, and I promised myself to train to keep from looking stupid whenever I spoke to Cub.

“You’re Witted,” I said bluntly.

“I’m… what?” he asked, and I was surprised to see genuine confusion in his face.

“Witted, as in the Wit. You’ve got a wit partner. Your wolf,” I explained. “You’re connected to your wolf, bonded with him. He’s not just a pet to you, but a partner.”

He blinked. He opened his mouth and then shut it again, considering. “… I guess you could say so.”

“Then you’ve got the Wit. It’s magic. The beasts’ magic. And people around here see it as a sin.” I let my voice down. “A sin bad enough to deserve death.”

He widened his eyes in shock. “People would kill you for having a bond with your wolf?”

His shock was almost sweet. But he was a foreigner, and he had no way of knowing beforehand. 

“That’s why I’m warning you. If people see you with your wolf, if they see you talking to him, walking with him at your side, they will say you’re Witted, and soon enough someone will find something to accuse you of, either of killing their chicks, or making their cows die, and you’ll die the Witted death. You’re not staying here for long, are you?”

“Only three days, but-“

“Long enough for someone to accuse you,” I said bluntly, not letting him finish. 

“And you know all this because you’re Witted too?”

Chade would chastise me for being careless. _And he would be right,_ Cub added. He had left me no way out.

“Yes, but it must be kept a secret.”

_So much for that,_ Cub said. _His wolf found me._

I gasped. _Are you alright?_

_I am. He doesn’t want to attack me. He’s just making sure his human is alright. You’ve frightened him._

“Or they would kill you, too,” Jon guessed. 

“You must not speak about your wolf to anyone while you’re here,” I said. “It’s for your own sake.”

“Is that all you wanted to tell me?”

“Yes.”

His shoulders relaxed, and his hand left the handle of his sword. I noticed with a jolt that I hadn’t realized he was touching his sword. I guessed I must have really scared him.

“I’m sorry if I scared you, but it’s not something minor,” I apologized.

He sighed. “Thank you, for the warning.”

I smiled. “One bastard to another.”

A look of pity reached his eyes. “You must live a hard life here.”

I chuckled. “Only the occasional poisoning, some deadly rumors, assassins sent to kill me… The usual stuff.”

He laughed. “The usual stuff, indeed.”

Silence fell upon us, but it was a comfortable silence. I felt we had reached some sort of understanding. Some strange impulse I couldn’t hold led me to share more dangerous truths about myself. 

“My partner is a wolf, too. But he’s only a cub still.”

Cub growled in the distance. _I can be deadly._

_I know you can._

He growled again at my condescending tone, but let it rest.

Jon looked at me. “My wolf is an albino wolf. He’s white with red eyes. I chose him from the pack because he was different.”

He sighed, reminiscing. “My father found a direwolf that had died after giving birth. Her six pups were going to die from the cold. But since we were six brothers, we each chose a pup. Even then, in all his differences, Ghost called to me.”

“And I’m guessing where you come from they don’t kill people for being Witted.”

“For having a direwolf? No. They’re scared of us, because the direwolf is the banner of my father’s house. But I don’t belong there. I never did. I’m not a Stark, I’m a Snow. It’s fitting that my direwolf should be white.”

I nodded. “Did you teach him to hunt?”

He smiled. “I never had to. He learnt alone.”

I wanted to ask a thousand questions. How did he keep him, how did he feed him, how fast did he grow, was it so different from raising dogs, but I knew it was not a conversation for this place or this night.

Jon Snow seemed to think the same, for he turned to look at the docks, down below. 

“I should go back to my ship.”

“And I should go back to the Keep,” I replied.

“I’ll pay heed to your warning. I’ll hide Ghost.”

I nodded, and we stared awkwardly at each other for a moment. He reached out his hand. I shook it.

“It was nice to meet you, FitzChivalry.”

“It was nice to meet you, Jon Snow. Or should I say Jon Stark?” I asked.

He gave me a sad smile. “Snow is fine.”

“Then you can call me Fitz.” He looked at me gratefully. On a whim, I asked him. “Which is your ship? Do you mind if I come by tomorrow, and we’ll talk again?”

“I wouldn’t mind at all. It is a big black ship, docked at the northernmost end.”

I knew instantly which it was. The townspeople had looked at it warily, and I’d heard some say the black wood was a herald of disaster. Considering how nervous everyone felt and the Red Ships threat, it would be good for Jon if his ship sailed early. I didn’t want to make him nervous now, but I promised myself I’d tell him tomorrow.

With another handshake and a nod, we parted ways. I sensed Cub following me to the castle, his curiosity as piqued as mine about the other bastard and his wolf. I smiled. We could trade interesting stories, indeed.

_Tomorrow,_ I promised myself and Cub. _Tomorrow we’ll talk._

But the following day I discovered that the black ship had already sailed, white wolf and all. 

I never saw or heard from Jon Snow ever again. 

***

**Author's Note:**

> It's the first time I publish anything here, I typically don't use this account to post, but to read, and I post on ff.net, but that website does not allow ROTE fanfics so here we are.
> 
> English is not my native language, so I'll appreciate grammar corrections. 
> 
> Thanks for reading!


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